


Noble Truths

by Laylah



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-13
Updated: 2009-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-02 14:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One last time, they repeat this cycle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noble Truths

She hurts when she's not in the EGG, and she's lonely when she is. Doctor Serph tells her not to be afraid. She likes his voice, warm and kind. Even Doctor Heat tries to help -- he gives her a cat to play with, and she thinks about that when he touches her for exams, and she tries to be brave. Breathing hurts. She doesn't know what to do with her too-long limbs. It's warm in the EGG afterward, though, and she reaches out for her simulators. It's not a real beach, but Serph is there, and she can pretend.

*

"Not here," Heat says. "Damn it, Serph." he's already lost the argument, Serph's hands dragging his pants down, pushing his coat up.

"Please," Serph says. "She needs supervision, after today's session. She can't see us. Can't see you giving me _this_," his fingers pushing, twisting.

Heat snarls, as quietly as he can. It hurts. Serph always makes it hurt. But when he's hurting Heat at least he's taking a break from hurting Sera. So far.

Heat grips the table and watches the steady spike of Sera's heartbeat monitor, in time with Serph thrusting into him, dreading the day that changes.

*

There's one moment of cold fear when Heat pulls the gun, but Serph's gamble pays off and Heat's the one coughing blood, collapsing; the project is still under control, the system almost perfected, the --

The alarms screaming all at once, critical priority alert, 19's eyes open and staring as she overloads the computers and --

God's response is immediate, catastrophic, so Serph has only seconds to think _I was right_ before he's overcome by pain, his body wracked by changes that defy logic, defy science --

And then all that matters is hunger, crippling, ravenous, as he bares his teeth to consume.

* *

She doesn't try to talk to God again. Nobody asks her to. She loses track of how long she floats in the EGG, with nobody coming to see her. She ventures further into the computer system, looking for her lost simulations, her friends.

When she finds the Asura Project, she knows it's important. She bends it, twisting until it unfolds for her like a lotus of pure data, and there are her friends, finally, and -- there is _cruelty_, programmed with Angel's signature, ready to be executed. She has to help them.

She curls into the EGG of the virus, ready.

*

"You remember nothing at all?" Heat asks, just to clarify. There's nothing wrong with the girl physically, even if she's weirdly delicate, compared to everyone else in the Junkyard. Her skin is soft. She smells good.

"I'm sorry," she says. Her eyes are large and dark.

Heat shakes his head. "Stop apologizing." He takes his hands off her reluctantly. "You can stay until we figure out why you're here. Right, Serph?"

Serph nods, making it true. His eyes didn't shine like that before. Heat..._wants_, but that's all he knows. It's uncomfortable.

What is he supposed to do with that?

*

They climb the tower, toward the resolution of this story with the princes, and Serph doesn't like it here at all. The resemblances are too close to be coincidental, close enough that the others are exchanging worried looks, close enough that even Heat, who has no time for codes and ciphers, is baring his teeth.

Serph has little reassurance to offer. He feels the pull toward Sera, too, and can explain it no better than Heat can. He rests his hand on Heat's back when the recorded voice glitches to life again. They'll find her. And the Solids will pay.

* *

What she wants most of all is to stay with them, even in the Junkyard. But the rain has stopped, and she remembers too much, the first time she saw Serph transform, the last time she saw Heat die. She was made for this, to plead for her people, and that has always meant she can't be with them.

She lets go of her sorrow, parts the streams of the Junkyard's data, and passes through, barring the way behind her. At the top of the temple she opens her heart to Angel as she once did to God, and prays.

*

He's seen the surveillance video. The Serph on the screen is not his leader, just like that wasn't him dying and wasn't Argilla killing. Looks don't matter as much as actions.

He presses his hand to the warm surface of the EGG, watching Sera dream inside it. Did the first Heat want to kiss her, want to touch her soft black hair? Did she let him?

Heat can't remember. He turns from the EGG, curling his hand into a fist. What he wants doesn't matter. He'll keep her safe this time. Serph -- _his_ Serph, his leader -- would do the same.

*

"Please," she whispers. "Hold me."

_You still trust me?_ Serph wants to ask. _After what I've done?_ His tribe is faltering, his comrades falling, and he can still taste Heat's blood in the back of his throat.

He wraps his arms around her, pets her hair, the nape of her neck. When she kisses him, he parts his lips. Her mouth, also, tastes of blood.

But there is no time now for the things he wants -- to apologize, to strip her bare and have her, to attempt love -- so they put want aside.

One last time, they repeat this cycle.

* *

"It's nothing like I expected," Heat says, smiling wryly. "_You're_ nothing like I expected." His hands settle at Seraph's hips, a complex arrangement of data that represents warmth and strength.

Seraph laughs. "I'm nothing like I expected, either." It's easier to smile now than it was before, for either of hir; the attachments sie feels are diffused, now, so that sie can feel the rightness that underlies all things. They will plead their case, and God will spare their world, or He will not, and in both outcomes there is forward motion. The guide that Heat gave hir, in another life, is more appropriate than he realized. "Do you mind it?"

Heat shakes his head, and something in his eyes approaches understanding. Their lips press together and Seraph can see all the cycles past, all the recursions of this stream of data: Heat kissing Sera kissing Serph kissing Heat, the edges of each instance blurring into one another, into this:

Their armor discarded, unnecessary now, skin bared and honest, mouths exploring, the two-three-many of them, who they are and have been and will be, curled together in a balanced circle -- mouths open to receive each other, flesh made of pattern and memory and promise that yet knows the shape of desire. There is rightness in this, as in all things, even if Heat still craves it for the affirmation of who he and sie have been. He has other cycles ahead of him yet, but perhaps this, too, is a step along his path: arch and slide and release, fulfillment together.

"Will you come with us?" Seraph asks afterward. "To speak with God?"

"I would follow you anywhere," Heat says.

He will not find the end of his path like this, but he may come closer. Seraph smiles.


End file.
